River of Salvation
by Chaotic Serenity
Summary: Reincarnation is not always a blessing. In fact, sometimes it's a curse. A very dark Hikou fic. If you don't know who Hikou is, there's your spoilers for Chichiri's past. PG-13 for swearing and content. And will somebody please help me come up with b


_Author's Notes:_ Seeing stuff from the second OAV really inspired me. Not to mention this awesome Nakago story I read somewhere also buzzed my creative vibe. A thought: What if Hikou had to pay for his sins as well?

**Warnings:** Angst, mention of death, etc.

**Spoilers:** Second OAV episode 4 and Chichiri's past.

Obligatory Disclaimer: I own no part of Fushigi Yuugi or any of its characters.

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River of Salvation

  
It's raining again.   
I hunker down low to the floor, listening to its eternal rhthm echo in my weary bones. The rain isn't uncommon at this time of the year, but the perennial fall usually isn't this heavy.   
There's been talk of flooding.   
"Hong, are you listening?"   
Blinking, I return my attention to my classmates surrounding me. I let myself get swept away by the rain again; I need to learn better focus.   
Flashing the speaker an apologetic look, I shake my head. "Sorry, what were you saying?"   
"I asked if you had the report done," John explained, "The project's due tomorrow, you know."   
My jaw drops, and I stare at him stupidly before swearing filthily. "Shit. I completely forgot!"   
The fault of the rain again. Somehow it always knows how to drown me in its ceaseless rhythm.   
I look at my other team members guiltily, but it's John's brown eyes I refuse to meet. I've failed all of them, but it's him who matters the most--it's my failures for him that cause me the most suffering.   
"I'm sorry," I managed to say, the vibrations of the rain growing ever louder. 'I'll do my best to finish it tonight."   
Anger reflects off the faces of most of my classmates, but John answers simply, "Don't worry about it, Hong. It was a honest mistake. Just get it done tonight, 'kay?"   
I nod miserably and release a sigh. He just returns the motion and moves on to other business. He's always been like that, lenient with my errors. Perhaps it's because we're best friends. Maybe he sympathizes with me. Whatever the reason, John has this longstanding habit of rarely getting seriously angry at me, believing that whatever dissencion we could possibly have would eventually reach resolution.   
Unfortunately, not all mistakes are so easily rectified.   
Class ends soo enough, and the two of us enter the hallways weighed down heavily with books and thoughts. Neither of us has much to say until we turn the corner of the hallway, heading for our lockers. Finally there, he turns to me and asks quietly, "Is everything all right, Hong? Yuo've seemed unfocused and unusually quiet as of late. Is something wrong?" His voice drops an octave. "I know you father died around this time of year. Is that it?"   
Still the ever clever and observant one, aren't you Houjun?   
I stiffen momentarily at the mention of my father before relaxing. Indeed it was near the anniversary of his death, but I made mypeace with him before he left, so I have no regrets.   
For once.   
Besides, telling him that was the problem would be a lie, and I would prefer to rot in hell before I told such a falsity to him. I've already betrayed him enough.   
"It's the rain," I explain, "Always makes me feel so depressed." I shudder and say softly. "Reminds me of things." Realizing he's looking at me oddly, I add quickly, "That, and you know how stressful final projects can be. My graduation depends on whether or not I pass the damned thing." To reassure my point, I give John a tired smile. "Don't worry about me--you've got plenty to take care of yourself."   
I shove him playfully. He punches my shoulder. We roughhouse a little more, and for a moment I'm able to pretend that it's just like the old times, that we're just two innocent friends fooling around in the hall and all in the world is good and right.   
Until she arrives.   
Immediately, he leaves my side to greet her, wrapping his arms about her waist and kissing her forehead. Averting my eyes, I bite down the waves of bitterness raging inside me.   
Time may have changed the intimacy, but the circumstances have remained the same.   
Damn you, Suzaku.   
Turning back to the couple, I sigh; already they've managed to immerse themselves completely in one another. I could be dying nearby, and they wouldn't even notice. Just like old times, I've become nothing more than a rock that sits nearby, solid and unwavering.   
But even the strongest of stones can crumble, and just like old times, I turn away and walk in the opposite direction.   
Her voice keeps me from getting too far, though. Loud and clear like a rushing waterfall, it pours over me, trickling through my every vein. "Hey Hong, where ya going?"   
"Class," I respond without facing her, "I don't want to be late again. Ms. Williams'll kill me if I am."   
"Oh, okay."   
Hearing understanding in her voice, I assume our conversation is over and hurry along. But before I can escape, her merciless tide drags me back once more.   
"Hey Hong, John's parents are gone for the night. They left a few movies behind for us to watch. Wanna come over later?"   
I should say no. I should save myself from this misery while I can, but I agree anyway, knowing full well they would be disapointed otherwise.   
And I've caused us all enough pain in years past to be so callous. I don't deserve their friendship and kindness, so I force down my rising agony and let out a trembling voice of promise and agreement. I can hear the happiness in their voices as they call goodbye and walk off in the other direction.   
Which is a good thing, I tell myself, even as my hands begin to shake my teeth chatter, as if I've been plunged into an icy river and left to drift endlessly without hope of being rescued.   
Because after all I've done, their happiness in the only thing that matters, even it means the sacrifice of my own.   
  
  
  
Unlike most people who claim to have been reincarnated, my memories weren't shaken awake by some terrible accident or meeting someone I knew a thousand years before. For me, they've always been there, floating on the edge of my conscious and subconscious mind.   
Ever since I was a child, I knew I was different. I could remember having parents with different faces; I knew names and places I'd never heard or seen before. All along, I could remember living another life, though it wasn't until I was older that I began to understand the concept that some images were seperate from the experiences I'd had in this life.   
But maybe I should start at the beginning.   
My father was Chinese, my mother American. They met while my mother was performing a journalistic study on the communist government in the late eighties. Despite the calamity of the times, my mother apparently found refuge and reason enough to stay in China upon meeting my father. I was born soon after.   
Evenback then, I'm told I had a strange, almost paranoid responses to raina nd water, crying uncontrollably whenever storms hit.   
It was shrugged off as coincidence back then, but as I matured, I came to realize the vastness of it all.   
When China found itself in political upheaval once again, my parents moved to America. Barely two years old, I absorbed the culture, leaving behind whatever Chinese heritage I had back in the old country.   
But you can escape the past when so much of it lies buried in one place.   
Time went on. I grew older. The memories became clearer and harsher. My fear of water also became a strange, paradoxical fascination. And amidst the torrent of it all, upon entering junior high school, I stumbled upon Johnathan Wellington.   
I knew it was him before we were even friends. And I knew what would eventually come between us long before she even entered our lives. However, back then I hadn't cared. All I knew was that I'd found the boy who appeared my dreams so often as a laughing, smiling figure beside me.   
Perhaps, if I could go back and do it all again, I would have turned away from his smiling brown eyes the first time he spoke to me and never befriended him. Maybe I would have even changed schools so I could get the hell away from him.   
But Suzaku would never allow my transgression to pass through his eyes without retribution, and so I become the stepping stone by which Suzaku warrior Chichiri rose to glory once again.   
I can't help but laugh at how little has changed. Laugh, because otherwise I'd break down weeping.   
In the past, he had the same brown eyes, but his hair was blue, his features Chinese, and his name Ri Houjun. Hers was Kouran. And mine...mine was Hikou.   
And we were all close friends. Until the two of us ended up falling for the same girl, and I shattered an entire lifetime of love with my desire for forbidden fruit.   
But now I know that even the tragedy that befell us was a work predestined by gods. Back then we were both subjects of Suzaku. The only difference was that he was aware of his purpose, and I was completely ignorant that Suzaku had used me as the tool that sharpened and honed his warrior's skills. And Kouran...she was the integral piece that set everything in motion.   
And it's the same now, except Suzaku chose to reward their service with freedom and my sin with a lifetime of penance.   
  
  
  
"You've ruined it. The only way to fix it will be to paint over it."   
I'm standing in the basement with my mother as we gaze at the water-damaged wall. I sigh. "I'm sorry."   
"What on Earth possessed you to open the window anyhow? It was pouring that night!"   
"I was working on the paper, and I opened the window to get some fresh air. I fell asleep before I could remember to close it. I'm sorry."   
How could I possibly admit to her that the real reason I opened the window was because of a dream? A dream where I saw a river rising higher and higher as the rain fell hard. Rising...rising until it flooded the surrounding areas and poured into my soul, swallowing my body and drowning my heart in its inky blackness until there was nothing was left but a vast emptiness, an endless void.   
How could I tell her of things of which she could not possibly understand?   
She sighs, placing a hand on her temple. "Honestly, you put far too much strain on yourself. Was the project that imporant?"   
"The others were depending on me to finish. John had asked me specifically to do it. I can't fail John."   
Because I've failed him enough...   
"Fine. Forget about it. I'll call the painters tomorrow and see if they can come by this Saturday."   
She turns from me without another word, but I stay behind even as I'm left alone to stare at the wall in front of me.   
Water once cut a valley through my heart, long ago. I wonder, could wounds so deep be healed by simply covering them over with a new layer?   
My mother doesn't understand that this damage is irrevocable. We can paint it over as many times as we want, but the wall will never look the same. It'll always be a bit darker, a bit older looking than the rest of the room. What's done is done; there's no turning back. The only way to even begin repairs would be to tear the section apart and begin anew.   
The same way my reincarnation did nothing more than change my name and features. I'm still Hikou deep down in here. It doesn't how matter how many times you change me.   
Which makes me wonder...will I always be bound?   
  
  
  
  
She came during our first year of highschool. Her hair was blonde rather than lavendar, and her name was Michelle, not Kouran. She wasn't Chinese, she had never known Houjun beforehand, and she was as innocent now as she was then. But it was her all the name.   
It was at that point, I think, that my memories took a dive into the colder waters of recollection. Of hate, anger, betrayal, and misery. I could remember with shocking clarity of my once-love for Kouran, and the suffering that came to follow because of it.   
And then I finally understood my purpose.   
I am the one who stole the first kiss from Kouran's lips. I was the one who battled my lifelong friend to the death by the side of a raging river. And I was the one who returned years hungry for an unfounded vengeance to tear his world apart all over again.   
I hurt them, and the debt I owe because of that suffering cannot be fulfilled with any amount of words, regrets, or promises. It's only in the little things I do that I can possibly hope to find salvation.   
And his happiness. My life must be dedicated to the reassurance that John--my Houjun--knows as much joy of life as is possible.   
A part of me still loves Kouran, but I can't let that overwhelm me either. Alone, her happiness is just as important. Because there is a part of me that's indebted deeply to her as well, though my duty to her is nowhere near as immense or consuming as my one to Houjun.   
I may have stolen her innocence, but I shattered his soul.   
The same way living and breathing beside them is shattering mine.   
But I will stay. Because I am bound. And because in their happiness, therein lies my hope of being pulled from the raging river.   
  
  
  
It's funny how past times passes, how quickly we let life's sands pass through our fingers. Of course, that's all useless philosophy. Life's really nothing more than a grim repetition of our past mistakes. A play of shadows, if anything.   
This disturbing line of thought trickles through my mind as I watch the head professor drone on about John's achievements as said individual stands to the side glowing with pride.   
Valedictorian...record academic achiever...one of the most dedicated students he's ever seen...wish there were more like him...   
I rub my temples with my thumb in forefinger, attempting to soothe the headache throbbing within me. Like a flooded river pulsing with destructive energy urging to be released.   
She's here, too, you know. By my side, glowing with an energy of her own, all smiles and laughter. As always, she stands withhim, supporting his every move.   
And I? Always behind him. Always the follower. It's John's time to shine, but I'm the one providing the light.   
I feel like screaming.   
You are a clever one, Suzaku, brilliant in your irony. Who would possibly imagine the god of love as the cruelest of the four immortals? But not even Seiryuu parallels your taste for the obscene. At least he's sincere and truthful in his lust for agony. But you...you bury it beneath layers of love and affection, so that when your appointed servant discovers the reality of his suffering, he's already been plunged too deep to escape.   
I'm already in too deep, drowning now and sinking ever further, lost among the churning waves.   
Ironic, too, is the thought that only you are my solitary hope. Only you were able to place salvation in my hands, regardless of the fashion you chose. What I wouldn't do to know that release was within my grasp, to fulfill the debt you've placed my shoulders so that I could finally taste of heaven's bliss.   
Oh, great Suzaku, even in all my loathing, I pray for your strength now. If it's your warrior's happiness that you desire, than give me the strength to help him there.   
My eyes slowly focus on John again. The light's not quite as blinding as before...Eventually, the professor ends his speech, and the role call comes full circle. "Hong Zeifon."   
Flashing Michelle a faint smile, I come to my feet and stand strong, even as my soul feels weighed down by a thousand years' sin. As I walk towards the stage, I glance up and find brown eyes gazing at me worriedly.   
Once again, I feel like screaming.   
  
  
  
It's raining.   
I hang my head in my hands, attempting to block out the sound of people behind me and the noise outside. I've isolated myself to the kitchen where no one else is bound to follow me. I don't want to be bothered right now, anyway. I just want to listen to the rhythm of the rain.   
John's voice easily overwhelms any attempt on my part to block him out, but I manage to muddle his words best I can. Something about the success of our entrance to the local university and looking forward to many happy years to come...   
I made it into the college with him. For me, his success will be my undoing. Time will show.   
I finger the edge of my glass, watching the condensation pool into a water drop on my finger. Once upon a time long ago, a dark lord made me the master of water; now I can't even escape the tidal wave flowing over me. It's crashing down on me with trenmendous force, extinguishing any flame of hope I once had of salvation.   
There's no place for me to hide, no hole in which I can bury myself. Even if I were to leave John behind, Houjun's shadow would still follow me.   
Damn it all.   
I rub my eyes tiredly. I should just go home--I'm too exhausted to handle any more of this. Blearily, I open them again. Night has fallen, and the rain clouds cover the only source of natural light. My only source of illumination is the room to my left where John and the others are.   
Always my lantern in the darkness, Houjun?   
Groaning, I bury my head in hands. My headache's back, stronger than ever, and as I sit here, contemplating fate and damnation, I became ever more aware of the rain falling around me.   
What the hell have I gotten myself into? GodGodGodGodGod--What am I saying? There is no God. Only Suzaku.   
Somebody help me.   
The sound of the party suddenly grows louder and nearer. Turning to my right, I blink in surprise as dozens of guests pour into the kitchen laughing and shouting about something.   
My head throbs.   
"What's all this about?"   
A girl from my fifth period class skips up to me, her eyes sparkling with happiness. One of Michelle's friends. "Haven't you heard, Hong? Weren't you watching?"   
Not really. I was too busy trying to find a grasp on reality. "No, what's all the fuss about?"   
Before the girl can answer, John and Michelle come into the room, hand in hand. I turn my undivided attention on them. "What's with you two?"   
Michelle speaks up. "Oh, Hong, it's wonderful!"   
The pounding in my head grows worse. "What's wonderful?"   
She turns away from to me to flash a smile at John. "Didn't you hear? John just proposed to me! We're getting married this summer before college begins?" Before I can react, she's on me, her warm arms wrapped around me, tears of joy sparkling on her lashes.   
Suzaku, she's beautiful.   
My body goes stiff, my mind numb. Oh dear gods...   
_"Hey Kouran, I wanted to speak with you a moment?"   
"What's wrong, Hikou? Sorry to rush you, but I have to meet Houjun soon to make the final wedding arrangements...Hikou? Hikou! Talk to me, what's wrong, why are you crying!?"   
"Kouran...I-I..."_   
I bite down hard on my rising anger, forcing down the agony and pain and memories. My body tenses; she pulls away from me.   
"Hong, what's wrong?"   
Is it possible to appear worried and joyous all at once? This is insane. I force a hard smile on my face and answer hoarsely, "Nothing. I'm just so...happy for you too. Congratulations John."   
You've won again...Not that I was ever competition to begin with.   
She eyes me a moment, but then breaks out in laughter again and throws her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. "Thank you so much, Hong! And you are going to be at the wedding aren't you? I'm sure John would agree that you'd make an excellent best man! God, this is so wonderful, I'm so happy!"   
Good, I think desperately, that's a good thing. Yet even as her warmth enfolds me, all I can see is a river, full and swollen with new fallen rain, ready to swallow me once again.   
My head spins. Houjun...Kouran...Hikou...will it ever end?   
It's raining again.   
  
  
  
This is a nightmare. This can't be happening. I'm not really here, not really drowning...   
The television's on. I can see it through my room. The weather man is pointing to an area close to my town, giving warnings of flooding and heavy rain. And past the television, past the room and my house and my yard, I can see the river below us rising higher every moment.   
I force myself to look away. I can't handle this any more...I can't let myself be consumed by the past...   
The wedding. Their wedding. It's in six months. I can survive that long. I have to. I have to be there for them in their moment of greatest joy. Have to be there...and then I can give up. Yes, then...   
Do they realize how easily I could end this? There's a pocket knife on my dresser. I could take, press it against my wrist...   
...Or I could give Houjun a surprise visit. Take him down to the river side, show him the icy truth of my silver blade and...   
No! A sob catches in my throat, and I bury my face in my pillow. I won't let it happen again; I cannot if I want salvation! My life must be dedicated to their happiness...my life...   
Oh great Suzaku, lord of the fiery southern kingdom, and god of all that is beloved and held holy. If we were still ancient, I would lie before your altar and make an offering unseen or paralleled by any man that ever stood before you. And my life? It would be yours for the taking.   
And then, if I had thrown myself before you and cast aside all ideals and illusions of pride, until I was nothing more than a humbled nothing of a man...   
Would you begin to find my worthy of forgiveness?   
Because I'm still down here you know, waiting for your blessing. Waiting for your hand to pull me from this river and throw me on the shores of salvation.   
Down here still.   
Forever drowning. 

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**Final Notes From the Author:**   
What to say...what to say. Hmm...I have to say that this piece didn't turn out like I expected. I thought it would become a Hikou pity party, but it turned into a bitterness piece. Oops. -_-;;   
Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed it. I don't have much to say on criticism, other than the fact that if you see any mistakes, please tell me! I lost all of my files in a recent crash and have yet to get a word spell check back up. Thank you for reading!   
  
-Chaotic Serenity 


End file.
